Out of this World
by Fidelian
Summary: When Claire is betrayed by her father, she runs to her biological one. Someone she knows is waiting there, someone she didn't think she would ever see again. Paire, slighlty AU.
1. The Loneliest Day of my Life

**Author's Note: **This is going to be multi-chaptered (I hope) and a great new thing for me is that I kind of know what is going to happen in this story and when it's going to happen. So enjoy, and let me know what you think of it!

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**Chapter One: The Loneliest Day of My Life **

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Claire Bennet had finally become what she always had wanted to be; a normal girl. A cheerleader with a good-looking boyfriend and all A's, not a freak who could cut off her own toe and watch it grow back. Being normal came with a small price, she had had to leave her hometown of Odessa, Texas, and move to Costa Verde, California. And her last name was now Butler, as far as anyone concerned. But these were very small sacrifices for her freedom and the happiness of her family.

When she had come home from school that day, she had fed Mr. Muggles and plopped onto her bed to get some studying done. After about an hour of advanced geometry, she could hear her father come home from work. 

"Anyone home?" she heard him call from downstairs and she looked up from her books, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand.

"I'm in my room studying," she called back and returned to the book, knowing that her father would soon be knocking on her door.

Sure enough, a minute later there was a knock and she told him to come in. He was smiling but he looked pretty tired, and Claire thought of how much he'd been working lately. She knew that he really was trying to get by with this new job, and she was very proud of his hard work.

"Honey, I have to work tonight," he said calmly, still smiling and resting a hand on the doorknob. "There was some crisis at a book company and I have to deliver some paper."

"Okay, dad," Claire said, smiling back at him. This was a normal occurrence and one of the things that made her proud of him. "Have a nice night."

He nodded. "See you tomorrow," he then said and left, closing the door behind him.

A couple of minutes later, she heard the door open and close. Sighing, she got back to her studies. After another hour, the words began to blur together and her wrist was feeling sore, so she gave up. Not knowing what to do next, and as she didn't want to disturb her mother - who was lying in her bed three rooms away with a migraine - Claire ruled out listening to music or watching TV.

She spotted her cell phone on her desk and got an idea. Of course, why hadn't she thought of it earlier?

Tone after tone rang out and Claire started to think he wouldn't answer. Just as she was about to hang up, he did.

"Hey," West said, sounding breathless.

"Hey you," said Claire, smiling. "Where are you?"

There was a silence, and Claire thought she could hear that he was outside somewhere.

"Uh, nowhere," he finally answered. "Just at home, studying."

Claire frowned. Was he lying to her?

"Okay," she said uncertainly. "What are you doing later tonight, then? Do you want to hang out or something?"

"Can't," her boyfriend answered quickly. "It's just that I have all this homework, so I really think I should spend the night on that. But tomorrow, for sure."

"Alright," she sighed. "Call me tomorrow?"

"You know I will," West said warmly, and Claire smiled.

They hung up at the same time and Claire sighed again. This was turning out to be a very boring night.

Later that night, she was lying on her bed with her feet on the pillow, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling. She came to think about her biological father and what he was doing right this moment, but she quickly stopped the thought when her heart constricted. Thoughts of Nathan _always _led to thoughts of Peter. Peter, who had saved her life. Peter, who had made her stomach do some weird fluttering thing. Peter, who had turned out to be her uncle. Peter, who had died to save the world.

She made a choked noise and wiped her eyes. There was no point in thinking about him. He wasn't coming back to save her anymore. She was all alone with her secret. West didn't have that quality, the need to save the world, or at least do _something_. He just thought it was cool that he could fly. She almost chuckled ironically. That boy really had depth. But then she felt guilty. West had done nothing to deserve her ridicule, he had always been there for her when she needed him. He had done his best to protect her from what he could. And she was very thankful that he was willing to be with her, even though he knew what she could do to herself.

But she still missed Peter. She couldn't talk to West about him, or any of the members of her biological family. Her adoptive father had strictly forbidden it. But she couldn't figure out why Peter died. Didn't he have her healing powers anymore? Had he forgotten how to use them? Had he been too scared or too hurt to use them? The last thought made her throat burn and she sniffed quietly.

Her cell phone beeped suddenly right next to her ear, and she almost jumped in fright. She had received text message from someone with an anonymous caller ID. Claire frowned, everyone she knew had public caller ID.

_Go to your school, on the side of your gymnasium. Be prepared for what you will see._

Her heart was thumping wildly. Was this some kind of joke? Would someone be standing there waiting for her? Was someone trying to kill her?

She didn't know, but she had to find out.

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Ten minutes later, she was standing at the front entrance of the gym. She wrapped her coat around her more tightly and waited for something – anything – to happen.

After five minutes, something did. She heard a call for help and turned around quickly. It came from the other side of the gym. Her heart started beating faster. When she looked around the corner, what would she see?

She quietly pressed against the wall, peering around the corner of the building, and almost called out in surprise.

Two men were standing, looking towards the wall. Another man was lying on the ground, propped up against the wall. One of the men was holding a gun and pointing it at the man on the ground, who was whining and begging for his life. Claire couldn't see who the man without a man was, but the armed man she knew very well.

It was her father.

"If you won't cooperate with us, I'm sorry that we'll have to bid you goodbye," her father was saying, and Claire felt bile rise in her throat.

"No," the man moaned, and she saw that his nose was bleeding and he had a huge black eye. "Please don't."

Claire watched her father's face intently, tears running down her own. He gave the man a small smile and then he pulled the trigger.

She saw that the gun had a long round thing on it that made the sound muffled. The shot man gasped and blood began running down from his mouth. Claire's father looked at the man next to him, who seemed very nervous. Claire wished she could see his face, to see if he was as upset about this as she was, but her father grabbed his shoulder and they went the opposite way of where she was standing.

Claire turned around, walked a few steps but stopped and emptied her stomach into a nearby trashcan.

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A couple of hours later, she was on a plane to New York. Sneaking out from her house hadn't been easy. When she got home her father was there, smiling at her as if she hadn't just seen him kill a defenceless life. She had given him a brief acknowledgement and ran up the stairs.

She packed quickly and left everything she wouldn't need in the next day or so, and jumped out the window. When she ran down the street, she thought of how stupid she had been, and that thought tormented her on the flight as well. She spent hours thinking of the betrayal of her father, and ever so often Peter popped into her mind as well, but she pushed all thoughts down after a while and started listening to her iPod instead.

After a cab ride which had cost her almost all of the money she had, she was standing at the gates of the Petrelli Mansion. She was breathing hard, as if she'd just ran, and pulled the gates open. The garden was spectacular and Claire stopped many times to just stare in awe at the exotic flowers and exquisite plants that were all around her. When she reached the front doors, she came back to reality and took a deep breath before knocking twice.

A beautiful woman opened the door. She looked to be in her mid-thirties with shoulder length dark hair and red lips.

"Yes?" she said politely. "What can I do for you?"

Claire looked at her uncertainly. "My name is Claire," she said in a low voice.

The woman looked confused for a second, and then understanding dawned on her face. "Oh," she said in a startled voice. "You're _Claire_?"

Claire nodded, looking away from her. She didn't know why, but she felt ashamed for being there. The woman looked at her for another second and then she began to smile at her.

"Come in, Claire," she said in a warm voice, and Claire felt surprise surge through her body.

This woman has to be Nathan's wife, and she's inviting Claire in and treating her with respect? She was almost too stunned to move before her stepmother gestured for her to come in.

"Please sit down," Heidi said politely when they reached what would be called the living room in any simpler house. Claire obeyed her, folding her hands on her lap. "I'll go get Nathan for you."

Claire took deep breaths while she waited, and looked around at the mansion. She never thought she would set her foot here again after… It looked exactly the same. She realized she was sitting exactly where she had pulled a piece of glass out of Peter's head, and the thought made her heart constrict again. How she wished she could pull a piece of glass out of him again, just to have her hero back.

"Claire?" she heard someone exclaim in a surprised voice from the stairs.

Recognizing the voice, she turned around and smiled politely. "Hello."

Nathan hurried down the stairs and stood in front of her, gaping down at her. Then he seemed to remember himself and gave her a quick, practically emotionless hug and sat next to her on the couch.

"What are you doing here, Claire?" he said, and Claire was surprised to hear that he didn't sound hostile, just startled.

"I…" she began, but stopped when she heard steps thunder through the whole mansion, and someone came into view on the stairs, running so fast that he almost stumbled down them. Then he slung his long black hair back from his face and looked around frantically, eyes landing on her. She thought she was going to have a heart attack.

It was Peter.


	2. Still there for me

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**Chapter Two: Still There for Me**

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"Claire," Peter breathed when he saw her sitting on the couch. They just looked at each other for a moment, and before Claire knew it she had gotten up from the couch, crossed the room in just two steps and flung herself into Peter's open arms.

"You're not dead," Claire whispered into his shoulder, hugging him so tight that she could feel his heart beating faster than what was normal. "You're not dead."

"I'm alive," he whispered back reassuringly, running a hand over her hair and onto her back.

After they had stood there embracing for what felt like hours but must've been more like minutes, Nathan broke them apart by clearing his throat. Claire looked around at him and saw that he was looking at the two of them with something like concern in his eyes. Suddenly she realized that she was very light headed and that she should probably sit down.

Peter noticed her wobbling and immediately guided her to the couch and sat down next to her. Claire could feel her chest bubbling and burning and she realized that she hadn't even known how much she had regretted Peter's death, and how much she had missed seeing him.

He had a sedative effect one her, making her calm and at ease just as long as he was around. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, she found that she started to doze off, right there with her head against the back of the couch. Her mind was so overwhelmed with surprise and happiness that she had a hard time moving at all. She could vaguely hear the two brothers arguing over something and she started to come back to life, wanting to stop the argument, but stopped moving when she felt a reassuring hand sneak into hers on the couch between them.

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The next thing she knew, she was in a huge and soft bed in an enormous bed – twice the size of her own bedroom in Costa Verde – and it was light out. The thought of her bedroom in Costa Verde made her remember everything that had happened the day before. Nathan had invited her into her home and had even given her a – albeit awkward – hug, Peter was alive…

The last thought made her gasp. Peter was alive. He hadn't blown into a million pieces like she had had nightmares about for months. He was breathing and eating and laughing like every other living human being. He was in the same house as her this very moment.

She laughed and jumped out of the bed and the bedroom, dancing merrily down the hall. When she had gotten down the stair and inside the kitchen, she found a note on the counter.

_Good morning, Claire!_

_Take anything you want in the fridge and feel at home. We'll be back later today._

_Nathan, Heidi & the boys_

She could tell from the female handwriting that Heidi had written the note, and that made her feel secure enough to open the refrigerator and see what she could make into a decent Claire-sized breakfast.

Half an hour later, she had devoured pancakes, sandwiches, cereal and half a bottle of orange juice. Sipping on a cup of coffee, she started reading the morning paper, humming to herself.

"Catchy," said a voice behind her, and she almost spilled coffee over herself.

Peter laughed and went straight for the coffeemaker, pouring himself a cup. "Kind of jumpy, aren't we?"

Claire just gaped at him, still in awe of the fact that he was in fact alive. All those months of remorse and missed chances, and now he stood before her, looking dashing in a loose T-shirt and pyjama pants, drinking coffee as though he never had asked her to shoot him or been about to explode.

She couldn't think of anything to say to him, so she continued reading the paper and tried to enjoy her almost-spilled coffee. After a while, she could still feel his eyes on her, so she looked up at him in confusion.

He was looking her over, his face unreadable. Glancing down at herself, she realized what she was wearing.

She had only packed a pair of pyjamas in the clothes department – having quite a hurry trying to get away from her father – and California wasn't exactly chilly at night. A tank top and a pair of hotpants was practically the only thing you could wear to bed, since Claire thought it was uncomfortable to sleep naked – something she was now very thankful for.

She could feel her cheeks burn. "I don't have any clothes," she said, looking anywhere but at her uncle. "I was kind of in a rush to get away from home."

Her words seem to shake him from wherever his mind had been. "Okay," he said, looking as though he had been told not to ask any questions about Claire's flight. "Then we should probably go shopping."

Coffee almost sprayed out of Claire's nostrils when he said something that she had never thought a guy like Peter would say, and she tried to stop the laughter she could feel bubbling up inside of her. "Sure," she squeaked. "Let's shop."

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The day they spent together in downtown New York browsing through the shops was one of the best in Claire's short life. She could almost forget about her father and Nathan and the mess that currently was her life. Sometimes she could even forget that the perfect man who was walking next to her, trying to carry her bags in a masculine way, was her uncle.

_Uncle_ had never been an uglier word to Claire. It was strange how life could give you twists and turns sometimes.

After looking for almost half an hour, they finally found a decent place to have lunch. Claire ordered two burgers with extra fries and Peter ordered a green salad, gaping incredulously at her appetite ("But you're so tiny!").

When Claire had finished both of her burgers and almost all of her fries, her cell phone started vibrating in her pocket. She had turned the sound off when she was sneaking out of her room the day before. Her eyes met Peter's and he looked at her in confusion.

"Why aren't you answering?" he asked her, frowning.

Claire grimaced and took out her phone from her pocket. She didn't know what she would do if it was her father. Glancing at the screen, she let out the breath she had been holding without knowing it. It was West. She suddenly realized that she hadn't told him where she was or what had happened.

She clicked the answer button and pressed the phone against her ear, noticing that Peter was looking at her with great interest.

"Hello?" she said.

"Where are you?" came the worried voice of West. "I've been trying to call you for hours!"

"Take it easy, West," Claire said in low voice. She saw that Peter frowned at the name, but when their eyes met briefly, his face turned impassive. "I'm alright."

"Where are you? Your mother is really worried about you, Claire."

"I'm –" but she stopped when she heard the low rumbling of a voice she knew extremely well. "Are you with my _dad_?" she whispered incredulously.

"No," said West quickly. "Er, I mean, yes."

"Okay, West, listen to me," Claire said urgently. "You have to get away from him right now, alright? Go home and don't talk to him again. Do you hear me?"

"Claire, don't worry about it, just tell me where the hell you are!" West snapped.

"Get away from him, you don't understand," Claire continued to plead with him. "He'll kill you, run right now."

"Tell me where you are, I'm flying there and getting you home right now," her boyfriend said in a cold voice. "You don't have a choice, understand?"

Claire didn't know what to do so she hung up, feeling stunned. He had almost sounded like he knew what her father was up to. How could that be? She could feel the tears beginning to build in her eyes and she looked up at Peter in desperation.

He set his jaw, put his hand gently on her cheek and next thing she knew she was in the entrance room of the Petrelli Mansion.

She instantly broke into sobs and sank down onto the cold tile floor. Soon she could feel warm arms enveloping her and pulling her into a hard chest. She cried into her uncle's shirt and felt it moisten against her cheek. When she felt that she didn't have anymore tears to cry, she pulled away from him and wiped her eyes, still sniffing quietly.

"Tell me what's happened, Claire," Peter said softly, dragging a hand over her long hair. "Let me help you."

Claire looked into her eyes and realized that she really needed to tell someone about what she had seen.

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Later that afternoon, Nathan got back home without his wife or sons. Claire was sleeping soundly on the couch, and Peter was putting a blanket over her. When it had reached her chin, he bent over and kissed her forehead, his hand following down her cheek and lingered there for a second.

Nathan didn't know how he should feel about this. It would be incest, plain and simple incest. Peter was his brother, Claire his daughter. But if he looked past that, he could see that they had a close connection. He just didn't understand how they'd gotten that far in the little time they spent together.

He hadn't told Claire that Peter was alive for this reason. He was afraid she'd come here and look after him, and he thought she's proved him right. But her face when she saw Peter standing there in the living room… Nathan now understood that this wasn't the reason she had come, she really had had no idea about Peter being there. She had just come there because when she ran away from home she came to… him. He was the father who had never acknowledged her existence or given her any reason at all to trust him. And she still came to him for help and guidance.

The thought made his stomach warm, and when he realized that he felt happy, he instantly shoved the feeling down. He didn't have time for estranged bastard children, he had a real family to take care of and keep together. Heidi didn't exactly trust him as much as she used to, and the boys sometimes felt like strangers. Kind of like Claire did. The difference was that Claire had never been there, she hadn't seen the ups and downs of the Petrelli family, she had never met his father – her grandfather – and gotten to know the strong man he had been. She just wasn't raised a proper Petrelli, and there was nothing Nathan could do about that, even if he would wish he could.

But when he saw Peter settling down in the armchair opposite the couch Claire was sleeping on, seemingly just to keep an eye on her while she slept, Nathan didn't feel so sure about Claire not being part of the family after all.

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**Author's note:**I got many Story Alerts for the first chapter, but not that many reviews. I would really appreciate some feedback since this is my first Heroes-fic and I don't really know what I'm doing half the time. Anyway, hope you liked this chapter. The next will be a bit more intriguing I hope, Claire will begin to process the issues she has with her fathers and we'll get to meet Mohinder.


	3. Bittersweet Symphony

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**Chapter Three: Bittersweet Symphony**

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Claire woke up on the couch the next morning. Lifting her head, she felt the soreness in her neck and decided to lie back down. She spotted her cell phone on the coffee table and remembered the weird conversation she'd had with West the day before. Was he involved in all of this in some way? Why wouldn't he take her warnings about her father seriously? And his last sentence… He had sounded so detached and _cold_, not at all as though he was worried about her safety. She didn't know what to do with these thoughts, so she decided to put them away with the confusing and hurting mess of thoughts that was her father, the murderer.

A low snort startled her and she whipped her head up to find Peter sleeping in the armchair that was facing the couch. She smiled brightly for a second, feeling a strange lightness in her chest, and then she settled back down on the couch, snuggling her face into the spare blanket she had used as a pillow. Glancing at Peter, she took him in fully. The dark bangs that kept bothering his eyes, making him push it behind his ears probably once every minute, the shadow that covered his chin that told her that he needed to shave, the long eyelashes that were currently grazing his skin, his thin but very attractive frame. He was his own kind of beautiful to Claire, a kind she'd never encountered before and it left her in awe. Her chest felt constricted and she took a deep breath.

She had a boyfriend, for God's sake, and that's not even the problem here. He was her _uncle_ by blood, and it was kind of revolting when she thought of it that way. Only he didn't feel like an uncle to her. Nathan felt more of a father to her than Peter felt like an uncle, and that was saying something since Nathan wasn't ever particularly paternal towards her. But it was true; he was her biological father's brother. And she could never do anything to change that, so it was just as well that she forgot about this insane crush she seemed to have.

But just then Peter stirred and smiled a little in his sleep, and Claire smiled at the sight of it. Getting over this particular crush would probably be pretty hard, she realized, especially since he probably was the person she trusted most in the world right now. Her father had been at the top of that list for almost all of her life, but now…

She stood up and stretched, and then she walked around the coffee table and sat on the arm of the chair Peter was sleeping in. Smiling, she leant forward and shook him gently and whispered his name at the same time.

"Hmm?" he mumbled sleepily, trying to move his arms and sitting up more straight, startling Claire and making her lose her balance.

With a pretty embarrassing squeal she slid down and found herself sitting in Peter's lap. He looked from her to his hands, which had fell around her waist to stop her from falling to the floor, and looked as thoroughly flabbergasted, his eyes wide. Claire was initially almost as confused as him, but she soon almost forgot herself when she saw that the top four buttons of his shirt had been unbuttoned, probably by him when he was about to go to sleep. She could see the hard muscles of his chest, and how a delicate trail of dark hair traced them, and she forgot to breathe for a moment. Peter seemed to have pulled himself together somewhat, and cleared his throat uncomfortably, making Claire realize that she had been staring at her uncle's chest, and he had caught her doing it.

When she jumped off his lap and almost ran to the kitchen, she could feel her cheeks glow a warm red, and she vaguely noticed that her hands were shaking. Yeah, this crush would probably disappear any minute now.

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As the day went on, Claire found that she and Peter were the only ones who were home at the Petrelli mansion on weekdays. They were sitting in the kitchen, having lunch and reading in silence. They hadn't mentioned anything about the highly embarrassing incident that had occurred earlier the same morning, and Claire was incredibly thankful for that. She looked up from her book and at Peter.

"Why aren't you working?" she asked bluntly, thinking that she didn't know if she could take it if them together alone was to be a daily thing.

He looked up from his own book with his eyebrows raised. "I am working," he said. "Just not right now."

"Oh," Claire said, looking away from him and feeling a little stupid. "What do you do, then?"

Peter took a deep breath for some reason. "I work with Mohinder Suresh. He sends me on missions – I guess you can call them that – to find new people with powers."

Claire stared at him. She hadn't realized that there could be so many. "What do you do with the ones you find?"

"I give them information on their particular power and the whole having-a-power-thing, and then I wish them good luck and tell them where they can find us if they need help or anything," he said in one breath.

"Sounds like good work," she says. "I wish someone would've done that for me when I…"

Peter looked at her in silence, looking as though he understood her completely, and it made Claire feel very safe. She smiled at him in thanks, and he seemed to understand her meaning again, because he smiled his lopsided smile right back at her. Her heart jumped. Damn it.

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Nathan came home from work late that afternoon, and he sought out Claire and Peter after kissing Heidi hello. He found them sitting casually on the couch in the living room. Claire had laid her legs on Peter's lap and was resting her back against the arm of the couch. Peter was unconsciously massaging her calf with one hand and holding a book in the other, reading intently with a slight frown.

Again, Nathan felt uncomfortable seeing them like this. They were unnaturally close, and he tried to push away the small fraction of envy he was feeling. She was his biological daughter after all, shouldn't they be at least as close as her and her uncle? But when Claire made a small noise of pleasure from Peter's massage and Peter grinned at his book, Nathan realized that maybe he didn't want exactly the connection with her that Peter had.

"Hello?" called a voice from the entrance hall behind him, and he jumped in surprise.

Claire and Peter stirred at the voice as well, both looked startled at seeing Nathan standing in the doorway watching them. He quickly turned around without a word and went to see who had arrived. It was Mohinder Suresh.

"Hello," he said again. "I'm looking for Peter. Is he here?"

"Hey there," Peter said. He had never felt very comfortable with Suresh, he was a little too enthusiastic at the idea of people with powers for Nathan's taste. "He's on his way, I think."

They stood there in awkward silence until Nathan could hear someone coming into the entrance hall.

"Ah, here he is," he said, smiling at Peter.

"Hello Peter," said Suresh in that strangely intense way he had of speaking. "I have an assignment for you."

"Right," said Peter. "Let's go then."

He turned to Nathan and said, "You know the drill, I'll be back in a few days, a week at the most."

"Sure," Nathan said and clapped him on the shoulder. "See you soon."

Peter stood there for a moment, seemingly waiting for something. When nothing happened, he nodded to Suresh who then opened the front door for him. Just as Peter was closing it behind him, Claire came out from the living room. Nathan saw her meet Peter's eyes for a second, and Peter smiled widely at her. She smiled back in slight confusion and Nathan could swear that he saw her blush a little.

When Peter was gone, he decided that he needed to know the reason she was really there. So he took her into the kitchen and made her a sandwich just like the ones his father always had made him when he had something to talk to him about.

"Claire," he said when she had finished half of the sandwich. "I'm really glad you're here. You know that, right?"

"Sure," she nodded, but her eyes looked a little too wide for the statement to be entirely true.

"So you understand that the reason I'm asking you this is purely that I currently am on a need-to-know basis, right?"

She nodded again, looking more and more confused every second.

"Why are you here?" Nathan said in a blunt voice, regretting the words directly after he'd spoken them.

Claire looked hurt, and put down the sandwich onto her plate. It seemed to pain her to swallow what she had in her mouth.

"I didn't mean it like that," Nathan tried to mend the situation. "It's just that I need to know what happened in Costa Verde. You haven't said a word about your… _other _family since you've been here."

She didn't look at him, but he could see that she had tears in her eyes that threatened to fall. So something serious _had_ happened.

"Tell me, Claire," he said in a low voice. "_Trust_ me."

Taking a deep breath and gathering her strength, Claire wiped her eyes and turned to him.

"Okay," she said resolutely. "I'll tell you everything."

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**Author's note: ****Wow, much Paire-fluff in this one, don't you think? Hope you liked it, and tell me if you did. **


	4. Lips of an Angel

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**Chapter Four: Lips of an Angel**

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Claire and Nathan talked for hours that night. They opened up to each other, not nearly completely, but still more than Claire ever had hoped they would. She told him about her adoptive father killing a defenceless man, and he told her about his feelings when his father had killed himself. She told him about her worries for her adoptive mother and brother, and he, blushing slightly, told her about the fear he felt every time Peter went on a mission with Mohinder Suresh. Claire slowly began to share that fear with him more and more every day that Peter was gone. Why wasn't he able to check in with them, even just once?

One morning, when Peter had been away on his mission for five days, Nathan knocked on the door of Claire's impromptu bedroom. She got changed into appropriate clothes in a hurry and opened for him. Nathan was wearing a sharp suit, looking as though he was going to a work interview.

"Good morning," he said, leaning on the doorframe but not coming into the room. She was thankful that he didn't. They weren't really _that_comfortable with each other yet, she needed a bit of personal space. Smiling slightly, she knew that Peter would have gone right in, and she would have let him in with open arms.

"Good morning," she mimicked him and smiled brightly. She got out into the hall and closed her bedroom door behind her.

They were met in the kitchen by a smiling Heidi and an enormous breakfast buffet.

"Wow," Claire gasped. She had never seen that much breakfast food at the same time before.

"Do you know what this means, Claire?" Nathan said, almost mischievously.

Claire looked at him in shock. She didn't think Nathan could ever have that feeling. "No, I guess I don't."

Just then, Monty and Simon came running and laughing into the kitchen and when they saw the enormous amount of food, they whooped loudly.

"Grandma Petrelli is coming!" they shrieked.

Claire suddenly felt a strange suffocating sensation in her chest. Grandma Petrelli did not particularly like Grandchild Bennet. Nathan made the ecstatic boys calm down, and they all enjoyed a delicious breakfast together. Claire mostly picked at her food, wishing that Peter was there so that she could have some protection from the vicious but elegant lady that was her grandmother Angela Petrelli. Heidi seemed to have sensed Claire's discomfort, because when Nathan took the boys to get cleaned up, she gently led Claire by the elbow into the living room, where they sat down opposite one another on the couch.

"How are you doing, Claire?" Heidi said, placing a calming hand on her shoulder.

Claire almost laughed out loud. That simple question was so incredibly complicated that she just didn't have an answer for it. Heidi seemed to understand that completely.

"I'm sure it will be alright," she said, obviously trying to encourage her. "You are her granddaughter, after all, it's not like you're trying to marry into the family."

Claire's head snapped up at that comment and she could feel her cheeks glow red.

"Because that is _not_funny, trust me," Heidi laughed, apparently not noticing Claire's strong reaction to her words. Claire let out the breath she'd been holding unconsciously. "Angela Petrelli has very high standards when it comes to who her sons are dating or marrying."

Claire had never come this close to spontaneous combustion before. She wondered what _Grandma_ Petrelli would say if she knew that her grandchild had a not-so-innocent crush on her own _Uncle_ Peter. The thought almost made her laugh again.

"Thank you, Mrs. Petrelli," Claire said, trying to be polite and get the vision of a screaming Angela Petrelli out of her head. "I appreciate you trying to make me feel welcome."

"Please, I've told you a hundred times to call me Heidi," she answered. "And this is your home, too, you know. At least it could be."

Claire snapped her head up at this comment. What was she insinuating? Had Nathan said that he wanted Claire to move in to the mansion for an indefinite amount of time? Would she be able to live in the same house as Peter without going mad?

Well, she thought, considering the number of days that were flying by without a sign of the guy, it probably wouldn't be so hard. She was beginning to forget things, small things like what he smelled like and how he brushed his hair back behind his ear. The fear was growing strong, though, and right now she wished more than anything that he would come home. The instinct even outgrew her grief for her father sometimes.

Claire felt a thought sneak into her mind, a thought she had tried to push away whenever it had surfaced. Did she really have feelings this deep for Peter? It was completely doomed and unacceptable and, most of all, _wrong_, but as the old saying goes; sometimes something's so wrong that it's almost right. Because it didn't feel wrong at all to Claire, probably because Peter had been a hero and friend to her long before he ever became her uncle.

That didn't make it right, though, because the fact was that the same blood flowed through their veins. Her grandmother was his mother, her father was his brother, and her half-brothers were his nephews. They shared blood ties and something that should probably be called family.

"Claire?" a voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked up at a smiling Nathan. "My mother will be arriving later tonight, so I thought you might want to eat as much as you can before she gets here."

Claire almost snorted with laughter and followed him, but all through the breakfast buffet, her thoughts were singularly on Peter.

------

A couple of hours later, Claire was getting more and more restless. She couldn't stop worrying about Peter's safety, even though she realized that she should probably be thinking about her father's betrayal. The thought made her a little ashamed. Hadn't her father been there for her all of her life? And now he was suddenly killing people who couldn't even fight back. What she had seen that night behind the gym, it was an execution. Her father had been the executioner.

She could feel the insides of her stomach squirm, and she thought she might have to throw up. Thinking it was best to be safe – she really didn't want to puke all over Nathan's five-hundred-dollar bedding – she ran out from her room and through the hall. Before she had any time to think, she threw herself at the toilet seat and emptied her stomach. When it was completely empty, she could feel tears running down her cheeks, and she angrily wiped them away. After a steadying moment, she picked herself up off the floor and flushed the toilet. When she had brushed her teeth and flossed, she headed back to her bedroom.

Claire could feel herself almost having a heart attack when she saw someone sitting on the end of her bed with his face in his hands, shoulders shaking slightly.

"Peter," she breathed, but the complete shock didn't leave her body.

He was alive, he was well and he was right in front of her. And he was crying.

Peter didn't seem to have heard her uttering his name. But when she started sobbing a little herself, she could feel rather than see his head shoot up and turn to where she was standing in the doorway.

"Claire!" he burst out in what looked like uncomprehending surprise. Claire hid her eyes behind her palm, willing herself to calm down. She couldn't understand why she was having such a strange reaction to his arrival.

"You're here," she could hear Peter mumble, sounding amazed. "I can't believe it, you're here."

She kind of thought that was a strange thing to say. Why wouldn't she be here? In her confusion, she lifted her face from her hand and looked up at Peter. He was standing much closer to her than she had anticipated, and she hadn't been prepared for it.

The last thing she saw before her eyes automatically closed was that Peter's were darker than they ever had been before. His lips were both soft and rough against hers, and she didn't react to them in her surprise. But when her initial shock had worn off, she could feel all the sensations he was causing her to feel. Her back was tingling and the hairs on her arms were standing up. When she could feel his dark bangs brush her cheek, she couldn't help the small noise that escaped her throat. It seemed to egg him on even further, and she gasped reflexively, allowing his tongue access to the whole of her mouth.

She had never experienced anything like this before in her entire life. All thoughts of her father and West were so far away that she couldn't even see them on the horizon, and the only thing that filled her senses to the fullest was Peter Petrelli.

Her uncle.

Suddenly, he broke away from her. She almost crumbled to the floor, but he seemed to notice and held her forearms in a steadier grip. The shivers that ran through her body rendered her unable to open her eyes for a moment. When she finally did, he was staring at her face with wide eyes, and she could see that they were a bit lighter than they had been right before he kissed her. She was just opening her mouth to tell him, when he let go of her, breathing heavily, and ran out of her room. Instinctively running after him, she stopped in the doorway of her room, watching him almost falling down the stairs in his effort to, apparently, get away from her.

------

**A/N:**** First, I just want to say that I'm terribly sorry if the kissing is horrible! Secondly, I want to thank those who have reviewed the previous chapters, I really really love you! If everyone who has this on Story Alert reviews this chapter, you'll get an amazingly quick update ;) (it's not blackmail if you're cute doing it.)**


	5. Crash into Me

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**Chapter Five: Crash into Me**

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Claire had never been so amazed or shocked in her whole life. She just threw herself onto her bed and stared at the ceiling for what only felt like a minute, but must have been more like two hours. Peter Petrelli had kissed her. Her stomach fluttered furiously, but she also felt a bit ashamed. They were closely related after all, and any sort of romance between them would probably not be accepted by the society. Especially not her father, Nathan.

She could probably ignore all of this, if he just hadn't ran away like that. It was as if he regretted kissing her more than anything else in his life, and yet she had seen something in his eyes. He had wanted her, and badly. The thought made her grin into her pillow and she hugged herself. Maybe she should just allow herself to daydream for a while, before she had to go downstairs and meet Mrs. Petrelli, her grandmother.

And for the next twenty minutes or so, the only thing that went through Claire Bennet's mind was the breathtaking manner in which Peter Petrelli had kissed her.

------

The stairs had never seemed as short as when Claire was walking down them to meet her sort-of evil grandmother and her uncle, who had just kissed her. It had to have been shortened or something, she thought, because she barely had time to gather herself before she caught the dark eyes of Peter.

She sucked in a breath and tried not to look away from all the intense and storming feelings she could see in Peter's eyes. He looked so sad and she could not understand why. Sure, he had kissed his niece, but if this was how he felt, he could just say so and she would respect his decision. She would continue to pine after him in silence, just as she had done for far too long already.

He finally looked down, worrying his hands in his lap, and she let out the breath she had been holding. Looking around, she realized that they were alone in the sitting room. She could hear weak voices from the kitchen and understood that the rest of the family probably was there. Daring another glance at Peter, and being rewarded with a quick glance of his own, she walked straight past him and on to the kitchen.

"Hello, Claire," said the cold voice of Angela Petrelli. "It has been too long."

The hug that followed made Claire incredibly uncomfortable in its stiffness. "Hi, Mrs. Petrelli."

"Please, call me Angela," she smiled, but it did not nearly reach her eyes. "I guess you are family now."

Claire noted that she would not be calling her "grandma" any time soon, and it made her sort of relaxed. She did not know if she would have managed that.

"Well, then," said Nathan and clapped his hands together. "Let's eat. Claire, could you go and get Peter?"

Claire could feel the blush creeping up her neck, so she nodded and turned around before anyone could see. As she walked past her grandmother, she noticed her giving Claire a very strange look.

------

Dinner was an uncomfortable business for Claire. She tried furiously to not blush in front of Peter and the rest of the family, but it was really hard when she could feel his eyes burning into her. When they finally had finished eating and the dishes had been taken care of, Claire grabbed a book from one of the enormous oak shelves that covered one of the walls in the sitting room, made herself comfortable on the couch, and began to read.

When she had read about twenty pages and was starting to get into the plot, she could hear someone stepping into the room. She looked up only to find Peter standing there, staring at her as though he knew he shouldn't.

"Hey," she said in a breathless voice she didn't really recognize as her own.

He suddenly looked away and ran a hand through his long hair. She loved that quirk of his.

"Hey," he finally said, looking at her again. "What are you reading?"

"Jane Eyre," Claire responded. She was very nervous, and it confused her. She had always had some kind of romantic feelings toward Peter, but she had never been the least bit nervous around him. But now she could tell that if they had not been resting on her lap, her hands would be shaking.

"Never read it," said Peter. Was he seriously making small talk? They had _kissed_, for God's sake. Wasn't he as confused and conflicted as she was? Didn't he think of their kiss as the single most perfect moment in the history of time?

"Me neither," she said, smiling slightly. "But the first twenty pages are really good."

Peter snorted a bit, almost laughing. Her stomach clenched when she saw his lopsided smile and she suddenly imagined kissing him again. The urge was so strong and she felt so aware and alive when she thought of it.

He sat down next to her and she unconsciously moved closer to him. Their arms and thighs were brushing and she almost shivered. How did he do this to her? She felt electric, sparkling with energy.

They just sat there next to each other, neither saying a word, and listening to the distant sounds of Nathan, Heidi and Mrs. Petrelli talking in the kitchen. Claire slowly turned her head to sneak a glance at Peter, only to find him looking at her with that strange look again.

This time she was prepared for it, but it still stormed her senses and made her maddeningly dizzy. His lips tasted of copper and sadness, and it worried her as well as thrilled her. Her fingers itched to touch his naked skin, to run her fingernails over his bare back, leaving thin red trails under them. This feeling scared her a bit; she had never felt anything this primal before. His tongue suddenly invaded her mouth and conscious thought became impossible.

They fought for control, pulling and scratching at each other, the kiss almost bruising. But how sweet it would be to wear a mark signifying his strong hold over her. He growled against her mouth and she thought she would faint. The sound sent such tingling down her back and through her thighs, causing a longing for sensations she had yet to experience.

She could her him mumble something into her mouth, but didn't feel the need to ask him what he had said. At that moment, they were so close, so connected, that she already knew what he was thinking. That they were uncle and niece had never meant less than it did at this moment – or did it mean more than it ever had?

Her incoherent thoughts became ever more jumbled, but her hearing had not ceased to function. She could hear footsteps coming their way, and panic shot through her body. Pushing Peter away roughly, she reached up and tried to save what remained of her carefully pinned up hair.

"There you two are," said the ever-frosty voice of Mrs. Petr – _Angela_.

Peter, who had been staring at Claire in complete confusion and bewilderment, started and turned around to meet his mother's calculating eyes. Claire avoided looking at Peter and stood up.

"I think I'll go to bed," she said, picking her book up off the floor. Angela raised an eyebrow. "I'm wiped out."

"Of course, dear," Angela said, patting her shoulder in a would-be affectionate gesture. Claire knew better.

"Good night," Claire said, meeting the eyes of neither Angela nor Peter.

"Good night, dear," said Angela unconvincingly.

"Good night," said Peter in a voice that was many octaves higher than his usual low masculine voice. Claire turned around, smiling, and ascended the stairs.

------

Claire Bennet had now kissed her uncle twice. The fact was very strange and controversial, and her grandmother would kill her if she found out. If not, she would hire someone to do it for her.

Her thoughts did not stray away from Peter while she brushed her teeth and changed into pyjamas, nor did they change when she had gotten into bed. She fell asleep with the taste of copper and sadness, strangely, still on her lips.

Her sleep was not left undisturbed for long. She woke up from a dream where Angela followed her with a staple gun, to find someone knocking on her door. When she had pulled herself out of bed and rubbed her eyes thoroughly, she opened the door to find her uncle.

"Hey," she said, blushing instantly. "Did something happen?"

He looked anywhere but at her. "No," he said. "Well, yes, I guess you could say so."

"What's up?" she said, yawning widely and turning around to walk over to her bed.

Peter sat down next to her on it, after closing the door carefully, and ran his fingers through his glorious hair. Claire could feel her chest constricting at the sight.

"What are we doing?" he suddenly said in a low voice.

She sighed. "I don't know, Peter."

He looked up at the ceiling, wringing his hands, and Claire could feel an almost physical pain in sympathy of how lost he looked. She never wanted to see him look like this.

"I'm sorry if this is causing you –" she started, but he interrupted her.

"_You_ are sorry?" he said harshly. "I am the one who is supposed to be your protector, your _uncle_, and here I am." He paused and finally met her eyes. "Kissing you at every opportunity. What does that make me, Claire?"

She put a hand on his cheek gently. "Human," she whispered.

He stared into her eyes, and she could see him almost resign himself to his feelings, but then he turned away. "This is wrong," he said, shaking his head. "Why do you make me feel like this?"

Claire's stomach fluttered wildly. "Like what?"

Peter almost laughed. "Like I'd jump off a cliff if you'd asked me to."

She laughed with him. "Well, it's not as if you wouldn't have survived. "

He looked down at the hand she rested on her knee and covered it with his own. "That's true, as long as you're close by."

"Which I plan to be," Claire added, smiling at him.

When their lips met this time, he tasted only of copper.

------

Author's note: I'm really, really sorry about the long time it took to update, but as you all know; the holidays are insane. I hope you like this chapter, I'm finding it very hard to write kissing. I hope it's believable. I love you guys. Review and make me a happy girl. )


	6. Long Road to Ruin

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**Chapter Six: Long Road to Ruin**

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The following week was a blur to Claire, but it was a happy blur. She and Peter were flirting discreetly, rubbed their feet against each other under the dinner table and making excuses to meet in her room in the evenings. On one such evening, they were sitting on the edge of Claire's bed and Peter was kissing her neck gently.

"Peter," Claire said breathily, clutching his hair.

He just mumbled against her skin, making it vibrate slightly and sending her eyes up to the ceiling. Had she wanted him to stop? Was there something they needed to talk about? Why on Earth would she want to _talk_ when they could be doing this for the rest of their lives?

His hands started running up and down her sides, brushing against the side of her breast every time. She gasped slightly and stopped all matter of thought. Pulling him down against her, she started to lower her back onto her bed. He followed her movie, raising himself over her, leaning on his elbows. Their mouths never lost contact and were still battling against each other when Claire felt a surge of courage and slipped her hands under his shirt.

Peter made a sound against her mouth when she lightly dragged her fingers over the defined chest she had fantasized about more than once. She was starting to feel light-headed and gently gripped the bottom of his shirt, dragging it up. Their lips broke contact for a second and then his shirt was on the floor. She kissed him lightly once, twice, and then she pulled back, admiring the sight before her. She let out a sound that made Peter almost growl and kiss her again, with more force this time.

Things were starting to get out of control and Claire didn't really know if she was ready for it, but she wasn't about to stop his mouth anytime soon. It trailed kisses along her jaw, over her neck and sucked on a spot just below her ears, making her see something resembling stars before her eyes. She could feel him smile against his skin, and then his mouth went lower and lower, almost touching her bra.

"Peter," Claire suddenly gasped without even thinking about it. "Peter, stop."

He instantly looked up at her with very dark eyes and frowned. "Why?"

"I," said Claire nervously. "I don't – I've never…"

Peter's eyes widened. "Oh. Oh God, Claire, I'm sorry! I didn't even think –""Stop," Claire said again, placing her finger over his lips. "It's okay. It's probably been a while since you've been with a…" she trailed off, blushing profusely.

"Are you?" he said, eyes still wide.

She nodded, biting her lip nervously. His eyes fell on her mouth.

"You probably shouldn't do _that_, then," he said in a low, almost dangerous voice.

Claire let her lip go and looked at him, realizing how close he was. His delicious weight was on her and she could feel his breath on her face. He seemed to come to the same conclusion and sat up, grabbing her hand and helping her into a sitting position as well.

Claire rested her chin on Peter's shoulder, and she could hear and feel him let out a small breath.

"I feel happy with you," she said in a quiet after a minute's silence.

He didn't smile. "You probably shouldn't," he just said.

"Doesn't matter," she said, smiling. "I still do."

He was quiet for a while, and then he said in a very rough voice, "I wish you didn't."

Claire could feel her heart being pierced. She removed her chin from his shoulder and stood up, hugging herself and facing away from him. Fine, then, why did he make out with her all over the place? She could feel a hesitant hand on her shoulder and sniffed a little.

"I don't understand why you say those things to me," she huffed, not turning to look at Peter.

"I do it because someone has to," he said quietly. Claire could hear regret in his voice.

"But you don't have to kiss me," she snapped in a louder voice. "Or does someone have to do that, too?" she said sarcastically, wiping her eyes quickly. She would not cry in front of him.

"You're not really giving me a choice in the matter, Claire!" Peter snapped. "You look at me with those eyes and… I would like to see anyone resist it."

Claire had turned around now. "I'm so sorry that I fling myself at you at every possible moment. It won't happen again, trust me," she said in a low and cold voice.

Peter winced, "That's not what I meant."

Claire sighed heavily and sat down on the bed and stared at the floor. "What did you mean, then?"

He crouched down in front of her, placing on hand on her thigh and lifting her chin with the other. She met his eyes with a defiant glare and he sighed. "I'm starting to fall for you," he said softly.

Claire stared at him with wide eyes, but didn't say anything. What could she say? That she loved him? Did she really love him?

"You don't have to say anything," he assured her. "I'm just giving you the facts here. I'm starting to fall for you, and that isn't good. I'm older than you and we're…" he trailed off. "Well, you know."

Claire resisted a shudder. She knew, and very well.

"You just…" he said, looking like he was struggling to find the right words. "You make me forget myself and the resistance I've fought to build against you. Because you've always had such a huge impact on me, and I wouldn't let myself fall. But, well… here we are, and I'm trying to avert a disaster."

Claire didn't know whether she should kiss him or slap him.

"A disaster," she repeated in a hollow voice.

"I can't tell you," he whispered.

"Fine, then," and she turned away from him, grabbed her pajamas and toothbrush and headed for the bathroom, not sparing him a single glance or word.

She cried in bed that night, feeling misunderstood and alone.

------

The following week was very awkward and quiet. Nathan noticed the icy silence, but didn't ask a single question. Claire thought he might have been afraid of the answer. She was spending a bit more time with Nathan, and found that she really liked him. Under all that stiffness and discipline was a very warm and humorous man, almost fatherly. She didn't think she would really think of him as a father anytime soon, her wounds were still so raw, but it was nice to have him there to talk with. Especially now that she had lost Peter's comfort.

Peter couldn't be found in the house a lot. He wasn't out on mission either, so Claire couldn't figure out where he spent all his days. What if he had met someone?

Her chest burned with a sudden fire, and she had to take a steadying breath. What if he had found an older woman who wasn't related to him? Someone who was beautiful and strong and much more fitting than she was.

"Claire," a voice suddenly said. "Claire, are you alright?"

She looked up with tear filled eyes to see Heidi leaning over her with worry in her face. Heidi grabbed a kitchen chair and sat down next to Claire, placing a hand on her back.

"No," she sniffled, looking at the table. "I'm not alright."

"Oh, sweetie," said Heidi, hugging her with an arm and leaning her had against Claire's. "Do you want to talk about it with me?"

Claire glanced at Heidi for a moment. Could she tell her? Would she comfort her and tell her everything would be okay or would she scream at her and kick her out of the house? Claire couldn't risk the possibility.

"No, that's alright," she said quickly. "I'm just being silly."

Heidi looked at her doubtfully. "Are you sure –"

"Yes," Claire interrupted her. "I'm alright."

Frowning, Claire's stepmother nodded and stood up. "Let me make you some lunch, then."

Claire forced herself to smile and looked back at the table as Heidi started scrambling through the refrigerator and pulling out pots and pans.

She really, really missed Peter.

------

Peter opened the door to the apartment and hurried inside. "Mohinder?" he called out, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Peter, finally!" came the frantic voice of Mohinder Suresh, and he came rushing to meet him.

"What's wrong?" Peter said, feeling more nervous by the minute.

Mohinder turned around and went into his office, and Peter trailed after him.

"It has begun," Mohinder said, showing Peter a stack of what looked like paparazzi pictures. A dark haired boy was standing outside a building Peter recognized as a hotel in town.

Peter could feel a cold hand clamp around his heart, and only one word left his mouth.

"_Claire_."

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**Author's note: Sorry doesn't quite cut it, does it? Here's the chapter, and please review if you want more.**** Things are finally starting to happen!**


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